Icescale
by Sarie Cigam
Summary: A lone wolf Monk has an ambition; to use the claws she was given, and to write stories that will span generations. Based in Cabilles and on the Iksarian race, her story spans continents and races as she seeks truth and knowledge. PG-13 for violence & la
1. Default Chapter

  
  


She left indelible claw-marks on our souls. She waltzed into our lives and changed us forever, and for that, we will never forget her. It was she who taught us to fall, and to get back up again and walk. It was she who taught us to laugh at ourselves, to defend our pride. She taught us how to jump, how to fly, how to run free. She taught us how to speak, write, carve, love... Her memory will survive into eternity through these tomes. I'm sure she would find it amusing, our musings (if you'll pardon the pun), but I... we cannot let her memory fade into the soil, like the bones of a stinking Barynai.

I'll tell you all I know of her. She, herself, will tell you her own tales. I ask you to read into the text, to see her, to remember her. Maybe, if my old claws don't give out on me, I can finish a suitable account of her life. No, not a single scribe could do that... she was larger than life. She was life itself. I can only write in words; she wrote in spirit.

Icescale, if you're watching me now, guide my quill across this old parchment. Please, help me do your memory justice. 

We'll always remember you.

~Flarexx Bloodscale, Scribe of Cabilles

A silent soul

The body departs

Sense emotion within the scale

Feel power behind the claw

Watch the eye

See the flicker

Life within, allow it to show

Bring out the best in yourself

~Icescale Shek'Maj, Scribe of Cabilles

  
  
  
  


Chapter 1

A Set of Claws

A set of claws; That was all she owned in the world. Granted, they were a good set of claws; she shined them daily and kept them trimmed to a razor-sharpness. She had aspirations that involved a good set of claws and a good mind, and the mind was her only other possession. She didn't even own her cloths; they were on loan to her from a kind merchant. She couldn't very well run around naked in the middle of New Sebillis, now could she?

So, with her claws, her mind, and borrowed clothing, she set out for the Monk guild hall and the beginnings of her new life. She wasn't a hatchling anymore; she had passed out of that stage weeks before. Her first shedding had left her with a new set of shining scales, and her facial color was evident now. Her eyes, surrounded by azure scales and accentuated by orange brow ridges, had also changed from baby-red to a virulent green. It was from those paint-chip-like scales around her eyes that she chose her adult name: Icescale. It was simple, and it was in the language of the Smoothskins, but she had chosen it herself, and that made it special. She scoffed, remembering her hatchling name, Little Claw. That name had been the bane of her existence since she hatched. She was ridiculed for it. For that reason, she chose the vocation that would show that her hatchling name was completely wrong. She would be a Monk, and she would learn the art of the Scribe.

Icescale threw her head back as she entered the guild hall, stepping easily by the hatchlings still in baby skin trying to get a place in the guild. She was above her former playmates now; she had adult coloring. She could almost imagine the younger Iksars hero-worshipping her, and she could almost see the hunk Iksar males displaying for her because her face was so beautiful. What she didn't see was Master Gloxx, the Guild Master, meditating silently. She tripped over the Grand Master monk, flipping head-over-tail into a heap, her nose scuffing up the dirt. Master Gloxx stood, outraged, and dragged her up by her loose neck skin.

"What are you doing, hatchling?" He snarled, flecks of spit flying from his jaws onto her face.

"Master Gloxx! I'm sorry! I didn't see you!"

"Obviously," He spat contemptuously. "Stinking unobservant hatchling!" He dropped her roughly and resumed his meditation, ignoring her.

The gibe about her being a hatchling hurt more than the rough landing on the marble, and she stood dejectedly, tail down. "I'm not a hatchling," she muttered under her breath. Gloxx heard her, though.

"The color of one's face does not make one an adult," He said in a now calm voice. "The skill one possesses shows the shedding of Hatchling scales."

"I've got skill," She snapped, harsher than she'd meant to. "I've been training since I could stand on my own two claws."

"Show me, then," He said simply.

She raised her head and claws and took up a fighter's stance, balancing on the balls of her feet. Master Gloxx took a step forward and swung with raking claws, but she ducked her head and leaned left, avoiding the claws by inches. She swung back with a clenched fist, the claws like gauntlet plates. He dodged and came back with a quick Round Kick that caught her in the elbow, and she jumped backwards a bit. While he was recovering from the kick, she jabbed with her right fist, claws extended, and hooked with her left at the side of his head. He dodged the hook but her claws grazed his cheek, but before the blood even had time to well to the surface, he had knocked her flat on her back with a tail strike.

She sat up quickly, panting, shaking out her claws. Gloxx stepped back onto his platform, but handed her a pair of rusted shackles.

"Take these, and make the Court of Pain proud. You drew blood; that is proof enough that you are no hatchling." After saying these few words, Gloxx sat again in meditation. Icescale put the shackles on, her eyes sparkling, her fangs bared in a feral grin.

"Now I'll prove my name," she hissed, clenching her fists. Without a backwards glance, Icescale, the One who had drawn Blood, stalked off for the Field of Bone and true fighting. 


	2. The First Season

1 The First Season  
  
Icescale stepped out into the searing heat and desert sun, shading her large eyes from the glare with one hand. She peered out to the large, half-ruined buildings towering like sentries before her and, further out, she caught sight of the giant Pit that she had heard tales of. With a deep breath and a quick prayer she ran down the path towards the Newbie Killing Grounds, flexing her claws in readiness. She did a quick practice kick, finding her balance, then chased after a nearby Decaying Skeleton.  
  
As soon as it felt the contact of her fists on its dry bones, the skeleton whirled around and dealt her a jarring blow to the side. She gasped at the force of the blow, and quickly retaliated with a kick. The skeleton raked its claws across her face, tearing loose a few scales, but fell with a rustle of carrion when her balled fist thumped hard into its ribcage.  
  
With a sense of elation Icescale looted her new kill, picking up the three bone chips and destroying the worthless skull. Her kill faded slowly into the red dust as she stood, wiping a bead of blood from her brow ridges. The skeleton hadn't really wounded her badly, and she quickly healed to full strength. With a new bounce in her step she went after a young scaled wolf, and caught it hard in its side. The pup whirled around, snapping at her fiercely, but she dodged and felled it with a kick to the skull. She was about to loot this kill when two more pups, drawn by the scent of blood and their sibling's snarls, latched themselves to her tail and left leg. She hissed in pain and kicked them off, swinging her fists at the two antagonists. She missed, they bit her wrists, and she kicked one in the side. Concentrating on the wounded one she dealt out two hefty blows in succession, killing the pup. By now, though, she was in bad shape. Her health was low and she was bleeding from numerous wounds and cuts inflicted by the pup's small, sharp teeth. She turned to the last pup and raked her claws against the rough scales, tearing some skin up. The pup bit her hard, causing her to wince, but she retaliated with a crushing kick to the dog's spine. With a low whine, the animal fell dead, and Icescale fell to her knees in exhaustion.  
  
After resting a few moments so that she could move quicker, she looted the three corpses and moved up the path towards the city to recuperate. Idly she wondered how much the hides she'd gotten from the pups and the bone chips from the skeletons would get her. She spoke to a Klok in the upper levels of one of the ruined buildings, and realized with dismay that the hide were worth only 6 copper. She chips were a bit better; a silver and a few copper could be earned from each. She was about to sell off these objects when a claw tapped her back. She whirled around, startled, and found herself facing a male Iksar only a few seasons older than she. He wore a desiccated skull on his head, and a few scaly bits of armor covered his chest, legs, and hands.  
  
"Hello, I saw you about to sell those skins. There is a merchant in town who will make curscale armor for you if you bring him eight skins," He said, indicating the three pelts in Icescale's arms.  
  
"Really? What shop?" Icescale asked, folding the skins back up.  
  
"The merchant's shop right across from the Court of Pain. Also, if you collect twenty of those chips, some practitioners of the Dark Arts might pay platinum for them."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"My name is Makaar," The male said, bowing, "And I am of the Shadowknight Class."  
  
"I am Icescale, a Monk," Icescale replied, bowing also. "Thank you for the information. What season are you?"  
  
"I am just a lowly fifth season," Makaar replied. "I think soon you'll catch up to me. You dealt with those pups well."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"I speak only the truth," Makaar shrugged. "Here, buy yourself a helm with this." He dug his claws into a purse at his side and pulled up two gold coins, which he gave to Icescale. She took them gratefully and bowed again, storing them carefully in her own purse.  
  
"Not a problem," Makaar smiled. With one last bow he was off, running towards the Pit.  
  
Icescale mentally thanked Tunare, carefully hiding her heretical thoughts from any of Cazic Thule's agents. She knew the dark god would not answer her pleading prayers, so she often asked aid from the Earth Mother Tunare, the Rain God Karana, and the Wurm Queen Veeshan. In her own way Icescale was very in tune with Norrath's elemental spirits, and she used that connection to her advantage. If the Necromantic Priests of Cazic sensed her prayers. she shuddered at the thought of the mental tortures they would use to brainwash her into worshipping the God of Pain.  
  
"I'd best get back down there and fight," she muttered to herself. "I'd like to reach my second season of power before Sunset."  
  
The seasons of power Icescale referred to were levels of physical capability. Once a being had slain a certain number of creatures or done enough deeds or quests, their inner strength would rise a level. Sometimes they would gain access to new abilities and, in the case of spell-casters, new spells.  
  
So Icescale, on her first Season of Power, ran out once again to the Killing Fields to attain her next season. She immediately ran into a pack of three Scaled Wolves and, with the confidence Makaar had given her, killed them all. She picked up the two skins she'd gotten and stowed them away and sat for another moment, recuperating strength. She sensed an inner power waiting to be released, and knew instinctively that she was almost at her second season. With that in mind she ran after another Decaying Skeleton, fists swinging. With two punches and a hefty kick the Skeleton went down, and Icescale heard a silvery ringing in her head that signified her new power. She felt her muscles strengthen and her health go up, and proudly she roared out "Ding, season 2!"  
  
Iksars gathered in the Field, who knew the common use of the word 'ding' (probably derived from the ringing that accompanied this transition) to signify a new season, shouted out their congratulations. One of those to shout was Makaar, who added "I told you you'd catch up, Icy!" to his shout. Icescale swelled with pride and happiness at her new nickname and shouted out "Thanks, all!" With a massive grin and a full load of wolf pelts, she headed back to Cabilles to train and seek out Klok Mugrak for her Curskin armor. 


End file.
